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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28596015">Silver Lining</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthorhiza/pseuds/Xanthorhiza'>Xanthorhiza</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne &amp; Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:08:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28596015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthorhiza/pseuds/Xanthorhiza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus is shit at making friends, but at least Scorpius takes what he wants.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Albus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I don’t get why dad wanted us to leave Grimmauld Place. Uncle Sirius used to live in that house, and dad always spoke so highly of him (I wish I’d have met him), and yet we still had to move. Dad wanted to live closer to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, and I guess I sort of get that. They went through a lot together when they were younger, but I loved that fucking house. It was creepy, but mom and dad made it homey and warm and inviting. And then we just… left.</p><p>I guess I like the new house, too. It’s big enough for all of us, me, James and Lily all have our own rooms. They’re not very big, not as big as our rooms in Grimmauld Place, but I don’t actually need a big room. The house is old but cozy. It feels like a cottage, even though it’s too big to be called that I think. I guess I shouldn’t mope around too much for having to move. It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it anyway.</p><p>I don’t like to admit it, but the real reason I’m so shaken up about moving is having to go to a new school. It’s not like I had a big group of friends or anything at my last school, it’s just that I’m not good with new things. Especially new people. I get anxious and nervous and I never make a good impression. At my last school, I had already gotten invisible, and I was more than okay with that. I wasn’t bullied or anything, I just didn’t get any attention whatsoever. Which I like. It’s so much easier to be invisible.</p><p>And now I have to do it all over again - greet new people, make sure I’m not interesting enough to talk to but not weird enough to be labeled an outcast or something. I just don’t feel like going through all that anxiety and embarrassment again. Luckily I have James and Lily with me. Lily was pretty popular at our old school, so she never really hung out with me (it would probably drag her status down). James did alright for himself, too, but he had his own group. But they always had my back in the end, and I know they will now, too.</p><p>Still, as I hike up my bag over my shoulder and enter our new school I still feel the same cold sweat run down my back as I did the first day of school all those years ago. It’s still hot out, so me wearing a jacket inside the school might look weird, but I’m pretty sure I have stains of sweat both under my arms and on my lower back and I’m not exactly eager to show that off to my new classmates. </p><p>After we all talk to the principal and get our schedules it's pretty much up to us to navigate through the halls. They told us there’s usually another student supposed to show new kids around, but of course, they’re out sick. Luckily a school is a school, and usually, it doesn’t take much to figure out where to go.</p><p>When I finally locate where my first class is going to be I knock on the door. It doesn’t take many seconds before the door swings open and a middle-aged woman with long black hair opens up. She looks kind, and I hope she actually is.</p><p>“Hello, can I help you?” she says with a sweet voice and I can’t stop my hands from fidgeting with the schedule I was given.</p><p>“Hi, uh-” My voice breaks, and I cringe. “I’m a new student, Albus Potter? I’m, uh, supposed to have my first class of the day with you, I think,” I stutter out. She smiles warmly at me and fully opens the door to let me inside.</p><p>“I’m Ms. Chang, welcome to our school. The principal already told me about you and your siblings starting today, I actually believe your brother is supposed to be in my class later today.” I only half-listen to Ms. Chang, because I’m too busy scanning the room. It’s still empty, people probably won’t start filing in for another couple of minutes. There are some cheesy inspirational posters on the walls, some famous quotes from books I’ve never read but heard of. It’s just like any other regular classroom.</p><p>“We don’t have a seating chart, but some of my students act like there is. I’d suggest sitting somewhere in the front, that’s usually where the least frequented spots are.” Ms. Chang is polite, informing me of where people sit doesn’t feel like a normal teacher-thing to do, but she seems aware of the minds of teenagers. “Uhm, thanks,” is all I get out before plopping down on a chair in the front. closest to the door.</p><p>Before long students start to come in, one by one or in small groups. Some pay me no mind, but others stare at me like I’m an alien or something and I anxiously keep my head down fiddling with my pencil. It’s not until a particularly loud group walk in that I sneak a peek up and I’m met with a frighteningly handsome sight.</p><p>A group of four guys walks in, three of which are incredibly ordinary looking. But in the lead is one of the most handsome guys I have <i>ever</i> seen.</p><p>He’s tall, really tall, with skinny legs hidden behind black jeans. His upper body is long as well, skinny waist with a tight shirt showing off everything in such a good way. I’ve never ever felt gayer in my entire life, and I have to actually make an extreme effort to stop staring. I don’t stop in time for him to not notice my eyes on him, and I think I see a smirk form on his pink lips. My heart is hammering so hard in my chest I think I’m at risk for a heart attack.</p><p>I have a hard time focusing in class, but Ms. Chang doesn’t call me out on it. Hopefully, she takes my lack of focus as anxiety regarding being the new kid. It’s partially true, of course, but now I have anxiety from looking at the fittest bloke I’ve ever seen in my life. I feel ashamed for having stared at him like that, and hopefully, he brushes it off. He probably has people staring at him a lot. He must have.</p><p>When class is finally over I start to gather up my things. I intend to ask Ms. Chang where my next class is since I probably don’t have much time to wander around looking for it, but I’m interrupted by a pale hand with slim, long fingers landing on my desk. </p><p>“You’re the new kid, right. What’s your name?” A silky smooth voice reaches my ears and I look up at the pretty boy from before. Pretty doesn’t feel like enough, but exquisite feels embarrassing to say even to me in my mind. I get to look into his silver eyes, a dark grey lining the irises and a mischievous glint sparkling throughout. They’re just as beautiful as the rest of him. Fuck.</p><p>“Uhm, Al,” I say because Albus isn’t exactly a name that wins points in the popularity contest in schools. “Nice to meet you, <i>Al</i>,” he says, and hearing him say my name almost makes me shiver. I love it.</p><p>“I’m Scorpius,” he says, and I widen my eyes at that. That’s arguably a worse name than Albus, honestly, but he says it with such confidence that I can’t help but like it. It sounds weirdly posh, which suits the rest of him. He straightens up to his full height again, and he looks almost regal with a posture like that. </p><p>“Nice, uhm, nice to meet you, too,” I choke out. Speaking is hard when looking at someone so excruciatingly beautiful like him. </p><p>“What’s your next class? I’ll take you there,” he says as if he’s used to just offering kind deeds to strangers. I gulp. His friends are standing behind him, looking like a fucking wall or security team, and with a wave of his hand, they leave. </p><p>“Sorry, they tend to be a bit overwhelming, didn’t mean to intimidate you,” he says as he sinks down to sit on my desk. It catches me off guard and my mouth hangs open, I probably look like a dumbass. </p><p>“Uhm, I have… Math?” I say, and I don’t know what to say about him just waving his friends away. It’s thoughtful, I guess. But it’s also kind of weird having a group of friends and then just waving a hand to make them disappear like he’s their boss or something. </p><p>He smiles at me, twinkling teeth and sparkling eyes, before grabbing the schedule lying on my desk. He inspects it like it’s the most important piece of information he’s ever had to study. When he’s done he neatly folds it in half and slides it into my backpack. If any other person were to do that, I would feel incredibly uncomfortable. But since I’m the one that can’t stop staring at him like a fucking creep I don’t think I’m the one that has the right to be uncomfortable. </p><p>“Let me take you to your next class,” he says, again, and I can’t say no. Not that I want to say no, but even if I wanted to I wouldn’t be able to.</p><p>“Yeah, thanks, that’d be great,” I manage to say, without stuttering even. I gather the rest of my stuff before standing up. He’s quite a bit taller than me, but somehow that doesn’t feel as intimidating as I thought it would.</p><p>“So, is Al short for something?” he says calmly as we make our way down the halls. I feel my cheeks heat up, but then I remember his name and I feel myself calm down just a little bit. “Albus,” I say quietly, and as suspected he chokes out a short laugh. They usually do.</p><p>“Wow, finally I’m not alone. Although, Scorpius is much worse. It doesn’t get better with my middle name being Hyperion, either,” he says, followed by a short laugh. I almost choke at that. Scorpius Hyperion? Holy fuck, that’s the worst name I’ve ever heard.</p><p>“My middle name’s Severus, so it’s not much better either,” I say with a small smile. He’s being incredibly kind, but I wonder if it’ll bite me in the ass if I start trusting him just based on this.</p><p>“Two blokes with terrible names, I think that means we should become friends, right?” My cheeks heat up.</p><p>“Yeah, I guess.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Scorpius</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We get to Albus’ class too quickly for my taste. I lean up beside the door, one foot propped up for support and I take him in. MY eyes slowly travel over him, his torn jeans and slightly crouched posture as if he's afraid to stand up tall. He’s wearing a jacket, too, which is strange since the school's ac isn’t very good and the weather outside is still warm. I don’t ask him about it. I ask him something else.</p><p>“Would you like to have lunch with me later, Albus?” His cheeks redden, and something tells me it's not because of the question but the use of his full name. I can tell he’s not too fond of his name, and I used to be like that. I used to be incredibly embarrassed about my name, Scorpius isn’t exactly the hottest name in the world for a teenage boy to bear. </p><p>“Uh, yeah, that sounds nice,” he says, voice a little unsteady but still somewhat sure. I let a small smile grow on my lips and I push off from the wall. He looks around, he looks so insecure, and I almost want to give him a hug and tell him it’s alright (I don’t think we’re there yet).</p><p>“I’ll come to get you after class is over, okay? Wait for me here.” He almost instantly nods and gives me a very shy smile before ducking into his classroom. </p><p>I don’t really know why I’m so taken by him, he’s not that special-looking besides his unusual green eyes. There’s just something about all the ordinary pieces fitting together making him look so… interesting. It doesn’t hurt that his ass looks really good in jeans either.</p><p>I find myself spacing out in class. I keep staring out at the leaves on the trees and how they remind me of his eyes. They might not be as green as the trees, but they sure are as close as human eyes can get to that shade. It’s probably the most outstanding feature of his, and even so, he hides slightly behind that mop of dark hair. </p><p>I’m still thinking about his eyes when the bell rings. I haven’t been this out of focus in so long (I am a top student, after all). My friends are already on their way to the cafeteria, but I told them I would meet up with them there. I have a feeling Albus felt uncomfortable when they were all standing behind me, so I figure we at least should walk to the cafeteria alone, him and I.</p><p>As I get closer to the classroom where I left Albus, I almost instantly lay my eyes on him. He’s standing by the door, shoulders tense and eyes glued to his phone. I’m guessing he’s still feeling out of place, which is to be expected. I can’t help but grin as I saunter up to him, confident strides. I say hello absentmindedly to some classmates I pass, but I don’t stop to talk to them. I’m on a mission.</p><p>“Hungry?” I say as I lean with my shoulder against the wall next to him. He jumps next to me, and I see him fumble to not drop his phone. Fucking adorable.</p><p>He looks up at me (I’m at least 15 centimeters taller than him, maybe even 20) and a deep flush is taking over his cheeks. “Uh, hi, yeah, lunch,” he stammers out and I can’t help but snicker to myself, and it only makes him blush deeper. “Okay good, let’s go, Albus,” I say, and I have to fight a sudden urge to take his hand. I know I’m forward, but I can tell he’s not. </p><p>He looks slightly less uncomfortable now that we’re eating lunch together. My other friends are here, too. But I only have eyes for this cute boy in front of me. He has a wild mop of hair and I can tell he doesn’t know how to properly care for it, but he still looks good. Strong jawline, slightly freckled skin. It looks like he’s spent the entire summer outside, golden and sunkissed. </p><p>He’s not eating very much, not that I am either, but I have a feeling he’s afraid of doing anything wrong like chewing with his mouth open or spilling or just anything to make us not like him. I get it, he’s new in school, and it must be scary. I’ve lived here my entire life, I’ve gone to kindergarten with a whole bunch of the students here. He really was just thrown into a school full of kids who’ve known each other for a very long time.</p><p>As soon as I saw him in class earlier I knew he was uncomfortable. His head hung low at first, his neck was slightly red and his desk looked way too pristine for someone who doesn’t care. I don’t know why, but he caught my eye right then. And when our eyes met, I knew I wanted to be his friend. Well, he’s fit enough for more of that, but I wouldn’t dream of forcing something like that.</p><p>So far he hasn’t let me down. He doesn’t seem to be too guarded, even though it’s clear he doesn’t like being in a new school. He smiles and laughs and is generally polite, but I have a feeling there’s more to him than meets the eye. He seems interesting in an ordinary way if that makes sense. </p><p>“So, how’s your day going so far, Albus?” I ask as I pick in my salad. His cheeks heat up in that adorable way as they have done every time so far I’ve said his full name. He hasn’t asked me to stop, so I’m going to keep calling him Albus until he does. </p><p>“Good, better than expected,” he says and gives me one of those timid smiles that I’ve already taken a liking to. He looks at me with those fucking eyes and I hope it’s because of me his day went better than expected. I think that’s what he means.</p><p>“That’s good. Hopefully, I didn’t come on too strong. I’ve been told I can be very forward,” I say, in hopes of maybe making him feel less obligated to sit with us. I didn’t actually force him to eat with us, I asked him (like a civilized person) and he said yes, so I’m guessing he doesn’t feel too forced into being here.</p><p>“Oh no, you’re fine, I appreciate it, really,” he says, just as shyly, and I want him to come out of his shell. I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me, but I do know that hidden behind his shell is someone amazing. My goal is now to fully befriend Albus Severus, the only other guy I’ve ever met with a name almost as terrible as mine.</p><p>As we start to get ready to leave the dining hall I see Albus pull out his phone. He quietly checks whatever he got, and that’s when I decide to hold my hand out.</p><p>“Give me your phone,” I say with a grin and he looks up at me, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He doesn’t say no, instead he just hands it over. I hope he did it because he wants to, and not because he fears what would happen if he’d say no. I try not to think too much about it, instead, I pull up his contacts and add my number to his phone. </p><p>“Text me later, Albus,” I say, before I’m off to my next class. I leave him standing slightly dumbfounded, and out of the corner of my eye I see him scrambling to get ready to leave. He’s adorable, really.</p><p>For the rest of the school day, I can’t really stop thinking about him. I can’t explain why I felt the need to talk to him. I only had to look at him for me to want to say something. I don’t even understand how someone can look so ordinary yet special all at the same time. It’s not like his features are really that outstanding, but put it all together with a shy smile and adorable antics, and apparently, I’m done for.</p><p>I don’t see him for the rest of the day. Every time a mop of dark hair passes I strain my neck to catch a glimpse, but that afternoon it’s never him. How can a practical stranger make you this unfocused and interested buy a couple of conversations and a lunch? </p><p>At dinner I’m quiet, but my dad doesn’t comment on it. We used to be closer than we are now, but nothing’s really been the same ever since mom died. I’m lucky I got to grow up for a little bit with her, but I already feel some memories fading and it’s starting to hurt more and more. I don’t ever want to forget her, but luckily we have lots of portraits hung up around the manor. </p><p>It feels weird, still living in the manor. I get that dad doesn’t want to move, it’s been in the family for generations. But it’s just him and me, in a giant house made for a big family. Even at dinner, we were sitting at the end of a comically large table as if it’s normal. I don’t talk to him about it, though. I know it would just make him sad.</p><p>When I’m sitting at my desk to do homework I hear a text coming in. I don’t check it immediately, since it’s probably just the group chat until I remember that I practically forced my number on Albus. When I check my phone, my heart skips (if that actually were a real thing).</p><p>
  <b>Albus</b>
  <br/>
  <i>hi scorpius its albus the new kid you told me to text you so hi</i>
</p><p>How is it possible that he’s just as adorable over text as he is in real life? He sounds like he’s not sure I would remember him as if I could ever forget those eyes of his. </p><p>
  <b>Scorpius</b>
  <br/>
  <i>Hello, Albus. I hope you didn’t feel obligated to text me. I’m happy you did but only do so if you want to.</i>
</p><p>
  <b>Albus</b>
  <br/>
  <i>i wanted 2</i>
</p><p>
  <b>Albus</b>
  <br/>
  <i>thnx for talking 2 me 2day</i>
</p><p>
  <b>Scorpius</b>
  <br/>
  <i>It was my pleasure, Albus.</i>
</p><p>
  <b>Scorpius</b>
  <br/>
  <i>Besides, if it was me, I would want someone to talk to me.</i>
</p><p>
  <b>Albus</b>
  <br/>
  <i>like youd need help getting friends</i>
</p><p>
  <b>Albus</b>
  <br/>
  <i>sorry didnt mean to sound bitter its just youre hard to miss...</i>
</p><p>I read the message more than ten times, at least. Hard to miss, huh? I grin. It’s true, I’ve never had much trouble making friends. It was rough for a little bit when I came out. Some assholes made a big deal out of it as if my being gay were going to affect their lives, acting as if I was going to lurk around after gym class trying to suck their dicks. It wasn’t fun, but luckily I already had friends that supported me. And no one bothers me anymore. </p><p>But yes, I don’t have trouble making friends and I guess I am kind of hard to miss. I’m tall, so that’s one reason. But I know I can be kind of imposing, I’m confident and forward and I take what I want. What I don’t know is if Albus means it in a bad or good way. </p><p>I ask.</p><p><b>Scorpius</b><br/><i>In a good or bad way, Albus?</i><br/>I’m staring at my phone, homework is completely forgotten and I have no interest in even trying to focus.</p><p>
  <b>Albus</b>
  <br/>
  <i>good… promise</i>
</p>
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